


home is such a lonely place without you

by taizi



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: If Nishimura is stuck in this town, it would be nice to be stuck here with the best person he knows.





	home is such a lonely place without you

**Author's Note:**

> title borrowed from the blink-182 song

Satoru weathers his mother’s tirade with the ease of long practice.

It’s nothing she hasn’t said before – he’s going to fail at everything he tries if he can’t even pass his tests, the world won’t be as forgiving as his teachers are, why can’t he be more like Kiyoshi – but this time she brings something new to the table. 

“Atsushi is going to go away to university after graduation and make his family so proud. What are you going to do if you don’t get your grades up, Satoru?”

His brother only makes it into the room for this part, looking between the two of them warily. Something must show on Satoru’s face because Kiyoshi frowns at their mother and says, “What’s going on?” 

Recognizing a golden escape opportunity when he sees one, Satoru heads for the door. Raised voices follow him out into the sharp autumn chill, and he doesn’t dare double back for his jacket.

It’s close to dinner time, dusk creeping across the sky in rich oranges and pinks. Most of his neighbors are inside at this time of night, half the shops closed up and dark. Satoru wanders towards the nearest conbini to make a meal out of chips and a pork bun and whatever else his pocket change is enough to buy.

Trust mom to hit me right where it hurts, he thinks absently. 

They don’t really talk about what’s going to happen after graduation. It puts shadows in Natsume’s eyes when they bring up moving away, and they’ve spent so long trying to get that guy to lighten up and smile that any topic that does the opposite is one they all unanimously avoid. 

But Kitamoto has talked about maybe staying here, working close to home. Satoru knows it’s because of this scary business with his father’s health. Kitamoto carries around so much care for his family that it’s almost ridiculous – except Satoru has  _met_ his family, and Satoru loves them, too. 

He doesn’t think Kitamoto’s parents will be disappointed in him either way. 

If Satoru is stuck here, it would be nice to be stuck here with the best person he knows. 

But, as a creeping unhappiness in the back of his mind is quick to remind him, he doesn’t want Kitamoto to be  _stuck_ anywhere. Satoru would shove him out the door himself, if he knew Kitamoto was holding himself back for anyone’s sake but his own. 

Satoru stops outside the combini and lets his head fall against the door with a sharp thud. His stomach is in knots now. So much for snacks. And after he walked all the way here, too.

“Nishimura!” a familiar voice calls, exasperated. Satoru lifts his head, and turns in surprise as Kitamoto jogs the last few feet between them. “Let me guess,” his friend pants, doubling over his knees, “you left your phone at home.”

Satoru pats his pockets. “Oops,” he says, by way of apology. “Hey, I was just thinking about you. You must be psychic. Or maybe I am.”

“Being an idiot isn’t going to get you out of the conversation we’re about to have,” Kitamoto says without missing a beat. Satoru’s shoulders slump. “Your brother called me. Sounds like it was career day at your place again, huh?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Satoru shrugs. “Fifty percent of the reason I wanna go to university is so she’ll stop talking about it.” 

The other fifty percent is so he’ll live hours away and never have to see her again, but that’s not something he’s going to say out loud, not even to Kitamoto.

From the look he’s giving him, Kitamoto already guessed as much anyway.

“You know she has no idea what she’s talking about, don’t you?” he demands, eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what your stupid scores are in school, you’re one of the smartest people I know.” 

Satoru blinks. “I’m an idiot.” 

“About  _some_ things,” Kitamoto says dismissively, “but so am I. So is everyone. You’ve got things you’re smarter at than anybody, but it’s not anything you can test, like math or English, so your mom figures it doesn’t count. It  _does,_ though, Satchan.” 

“Kitamoto, I’m not – I don’t need a pep talk,” Satoru interjects, hazarding a grin. “I’m fine.” 

“Sure,” Kitamoto says, too easily. “But I want to hear you say it.” 

He’s got that stubborn face on, the one that rivals even Natsume at his most mulish, and Satoru knows better than to try fighting him on something he’s sunk his teeth into. 

So he rolls his eyes, and doesn’t waste time trying to figure out if his face is warm-embarrassed or warm-pleased because it’s probably a combination of both.

“It counts.”

His best friend eyes him a moment longer, and then his expression relents into a smile. “Good. Now come on, mom’s got dinner nearly ready.”

Kitamoto takes his hand to tug him along, and doesn’t let go again once Satoru’s moving. He threads their fingers together and then shoves their joined hands into his jacket pocket, and Satoru is happy with that. He presses a little closer, and he’ll blame it on the cold if anyone asks, but no one probably will.

“You know,” Kitamoto says, without looking back at him, “you don’t have to go to school if you don’t want to.”

“Eh?”

“I mean, if I stayed here to work, you could live with me,” he says. “Maybe my family will move back into our house by then. There would be plenty of room. Or we could get an apartment together.” 

Satoru stares at him, and probably would have kept walking straight into traffic if their hands weren’t attached. Kitamoto glances at him while they wait on the pedestrian crossing light, and whatever he sees on Satoru’s face makes him roll his eyes. 

“I mean, it’s like you think I’m just gonna leave you,” Kitamoto says, as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “Even if I went away to school, I would take you with me. You could get a job wherever I end up, or go to school there, too, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you’re there when I come home.”

The light changes, and Kitamoto leads the way forward again. His stride is steady, and his hand around Satoru’s is sure. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, he doesn’t have it all figured out, but Satoru is a fixed variable in those tentative plans. Satoru was never a maybe. 

Blinking through tears, Satoru says, “That was really cool, Acchan. Like something out of a shoujo manga. Did you practice that on your way here?”

“Shut  _up,_ Nishimura.”

From beside Kitamoto, the future looks a lot less scary. 


End file.
